Come with Me my Love
by Gemmaaaaa
Summary: Mordred and Morgause have won, Albion has fallen. As Merlin lays dying in the woods he revieves a ghostly visit from someone he hasn't seen in a long time...His wife...


His hands were stained crimson with blood as he staggered through the woods; screams of dying men were still ringing in his ears. It was over. Albion had fallen to Mordred and his forces Gods forgive him he hadn't done enough to save it. Kilgharrah was gone, Aithusa was gone; both having abandoned him in his hour of need. He didn't even bother using his powers as a dragon lord to summon them back – it was a lost cause. Especially now Arthur was dead. A sword through his back by Mordred, or King Mordred as he'd now call himself. Albion was doomed. He stumbled over a tree root and fell to the cold damp forest ground with a grunt. Slowly he removed his hand from the injury dealt to him by Morgause, fatal most likely. What was the point of living now anyway?

Arthur was dead, his destiny was dead, Gaius was dead, Will was dead, his mother was dead, Lancelot was dead, most of the knights were dead, his father was dead, Freya was dead, Gaius was dead, Gwen would most likely die soon unless she managed to escapes Camelot and _she _was dead. How could he continue living? He slowly pulled himself into a somewhat comfortable position, he'd walked over this part of the forest for years and never once did he think it would be the place of his death. What a cruel mistress destiny is indeed. He could feel the blood seeping from his body, his life leaving his body.

For the first time in all his life he was glad to never have sired a child. What would have become of it after today without him there to protect it? With Mordred out there? Although the King was dead, the battle continued to rage on when he'd left, Arthur's army fighting in memory of their King, for the Queen carrying their King's child in her belly. Poor child. If he had the strength to pray he'd pray for Gwen and that child. Who would have thought, sweet innocent Gwen would outlive them all? A painful chuckle left him.

They said death was peaceful, but the screaming agony within him said otherwise. His biggest fear at the moment was finding himself confined within hell for his sins – his many sins. Murder, theft, lust, greed, hate, jealousy. And so many more. It was the least he deserved but it installed fear within him. Would Arthur too find himself in hell for his sins? Who knows, maybe he'd end up face to face with Uther Pendragon there. Maybe he'd see _her _there too. He would die a thousand deaths for that not to be, he'd spent hours on his knee's praying, _and begging_ the Gods to forgive her sins as he had. Maybe they were all doomed to burn within hell.

A golden world he'd been promised. A golden world where magic would be free but instead all that was delivered was heartbreak, war and death. Although in the middle of it all was _her_, the only thing that made him want to continue living that made it all worth it. But she too was ripped from his arms by destiny. Destiny was a cruel bitch indeed.

It was almost his time, his eyes were beginning to blur over and breathing was becoming a labour.

He was surprised Morgause hadn't stayed to watch him die, to finally have her sweet revenge. More important things to do he supposed, now that her son was King.

His eyes were beginning to close when he saw a figure begin to approach him; probably someone from Mordred's army sent to be sure he died. He raised his arm, he wouldn't give them the satisfaction, and he'd use the last of his magic to defend himself to his last breath.

"There's no need for that my love." It couldn't be _her! _He didn't think such things were possible. He forced his eyes open enough to take in the white of her gown a complete contrast to the flowing dark hair cascading down her back. It was her. She'd come back for him when all else was lost. She was the only one to seek him, his wife. She was still as breath-taking as ever, even after death.

"Morgana." He breathed; he hadn't spoken her name since her death. It felt right to have it roll from tongue once more. Why was she here?

"I've missed you Merlin." She smiled down at him and he returned it gladly. She didn't look a day over twenty – one, unlike him at the moment, forty – five years old and dying in a forest. He'd missed her greatly but he was glad she hadn't lived to see this day in life, it was too cruel, to bitter, to heart-breaking to see everything they'd worked for crashing to the ground, to see her sister and nephew murder everyone she loved.

"And I you sweetheart." He winced.

"Then come my love." She offered him her hand and he scrutinised it. Was this even real? Could she be some cruel illusion created by Mordred or Morgause? Even at his final hour they taunt him with the murder of his wife. He'd sworn he'd kill Morgause for what she'd done, yet she was the one who would boast taking his life. How ironic.

"Come where?"

"Avalon. Everyone's waiting, your mother, father, Gaius, your friend Will, Freya, Lancelot, the knights and Arthur. We've all been waiting for you sweetheart." Everyone was waiting for him? Freya and Morgana had met? His first love and his wife.

"She doesn't mind Merlin. She and Lancelot have found happiness together in death. As have your mother and father. We're all so proud of you sweetheart." Her hand was still outstretched to him. Freya and Lancelot had fallen in love? He was surprised to find he was not jealous, just happy. Those two deserved peace and love and if they found it in each other then he would rejoice for them.

"You are not disappointed?" What did they all possibly have to be proud of him for?

"Why on earth would we be?"

"I failed, Arthur's dead, Albion has fallen." But she already knew that didn't she? Her sad smile confirmed it for him.

"I'm so sorry my love. Everything you ever wanted…It is not your fault. The blame lies solely on my sister and nephew's shoulders. I beg of you my love do not be angry with yourself, you did everything you could to save Albion and that is why we're proud of you. As you said when you proposed to me, screw thinking of destiny, and think of yourself." He actually laughed but regretted it immediately the pain grew more intense.

"You know death has made you more patient my love." He choked out. He watched Morgana's perfectly arched eyebrow raise. "If I had kept you waiting this long before you would have smacked me across the head by now." His wife's musical laugh reached his ears for the first time in years.

"Oh don't worry I'm merely waiting for you to stand, it wouldn't be fair otherwise."

"No it certainly wouldn't." He agreed with a smirk. "What's it like? In Avalon?"

"It's almost perfect. It shall only reach perfection once you join me though."

"How can I refuse the offer to make your world perfect?" She offered him a tear filled smile. He couldn't wait to be able to take her into his arms once more and kiss her. He reached for her hand and as he was pulled off his feet, he felt youth flood into him once more. His wound closed and disappeared. She ran a hand down his cheek.

"Now you are as you were when we were married" She smiled and he grinned back before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close, it had been too long, far too long.

"I've missed you." He heard her whisper into his chest. He leaned down and captured her lips with his in a long searing kiss.

"And I you." He smiled down at her and she returned the gesture.

"Let's go Merlin, everyone is waiting." She told him before leading him away from the forest for the last time.


End file.
